


Alana Beck Has a Friend

by howboutinotdothis



Series: Nobody Peaks in Middle School [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: alana and evan are lonely middle schoolers trying to make friends, kind of a sequel to the other middle school one, middle school cafeterias are a circle of hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howboutinotdothis/pseuds/howboutinotdothis
Summary: “Oh, n-nothing really, just this—it’s weird, you don’t—you don’t want to hear about it.” Evan’s looking back down at his book, embarrassed, and Alana thinks the tips of his ears are turning red.“Well, I think I’d like to hear about it, and, considering I’m myself, I’m pretty sure I know my interests better than you do, Evan.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> idk man wrote this in thirty minutes
> 
> comments/kudos/crit always welcome!

Alana hitches her backpack higher on her shoulder, loitering outside the doors to the cafeteria.

She can hear the bellows of the basketball team, congratulating themselves on a win by a wide margin against one of the parochial schools that barely has enough players to constitute a team, and the soft tittering of the girls on the dance team, probably a result of a particularly nasty comment from their captain about some poor girl’s weight or braces. Under that, she can hear the general populace of the school chatting about classes, laughing at each other’s jokes, enjoying the break from the monotony of classes when they can hang out with friends. And that’s with the door closed. Once she opens that door, the roar of middle schoolers will be deafening and she’ll barely be able to hear herself think.

Alana used to sit in the cafeteria. She’d sit with some of the nice girls from her honors classes and discuss the merits of whatever YA novel series they were currently invested in, but, at some point, unbeknownst to her, the girls decided that Alana no longer fit in their group. She tried to talk to them for a while after that—she’d catch them in between classes, ask if they wanted to hang out at lunch or recess or maybe walk to the library after school together, but they’d always provide some subpar excuse that made it clear that they were avoiding her. Eventually, Alana just stopped bothering them, telling herself that she didn’t need people like that—fair weather friends, that’s what they were, and she could find better than them. Find people who liked her, who she didn’t have to put up an act around. People who didn’t care if she thought _Twilight_ was dumb, people who wouldn’t look at her weird when they found out she went to therapy, people who would actually show up to her volleyball games and cheer her on instead of just promising to come and never actually following through.

But, Alana didn’t find those people. Maybe those people were never real, maybe there’s really no one out there who will like Alana for who she is. The thought makes her want to turn around and march back to safety, to the library where no one will bother her and where she can almost convince herself that people just aren’t talking to her because it’s a library and libraries aren’t exactly conducive to discussion. Not because she’s lame.

Instead of turning tail and running away, Alana takes a deep breath and pulls open the door to the cafeteria, taking a few steps in and looking around, letting out a little sigh of relief when she sees a small figure hunched over at the end of one of the tables, staring intently at his book in a way that makes Alana think he might not actually be reading it but is just trying very hard to seem like he is.

She walks over to where he’s sitting, stepping out of the way of a rowdy boy who’s flailing around like a fish out of water as he tells some story.

Alana really doesn’t like the cafeteria.

Evan doesn’t notice her when she gets to his table or when she slides into the seat across from him or when she takes off her backpack and places her lunch box on the table. He’s still looking hard at his book, frowning like something in the pages has offended him. His shoulders are drawn inward, making him seem even smaller than he already is, and Alana can see that he’s rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, revealing his pale forearms. Alana hasn’t seen Evan without a sweatshirt in years—he started wearing them religiously in fifth grade and he’s never taken them off at school that she’s seen. Evan even wears one during physical education. Alana can understand why; she’d taken to wearing sweaters for a while, feeling more than a little self-conscious about her body as she meandered her way through puberty, but her mother sat her down and told her that she had nothing to be self-conscious about and that wearing these sweaters to cover herself up would just add to those negative feelings. Alana’s mom is the smartest person she knows, so she figured that she should heed her mom’s advice, and she’s gotten along well enough without wearing sweaters to ease her self-consciousness. Alana wonders if Evan’s mom has ever sat him down and told him that he doesn’t need the sweatshirts, that he's fine the way he is.

Well, that’s a question for another day.

Alana reaches across the table and taps Evan’s hand gently. Finally, he looks up at her, head jerking up like she just zapped him. When he registers that it’s just Alana, his expression changes from shock—and maybe a little fear, too—to something pleasant Alana can’t quite put her finger on. She wouldn’t say he looks happy, exactly, but he looks calm. He seems much less like he’s about to bolt than he did a few seconds ago, and Alana figures she can’t expect him to look overjoyed at her presence just yet. I mean, they only became friends a few hours ago, after all.

“H-hey, Alana.”

“Hi, Evan! Do you mind if I sit here?” Alana has to raise her voice to be heard over the raucous noise of the cafeteria and she can see Evan flinch a little.

“No, um, that’s—that’s fine.”

“Great!” Alana smiles broadly at Evan and there’s that shy smile from earlier, when she let him borrow her pen, spreading across his face. It’s close-lipped and small, but it’s more than she usually sees from Evan. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, n-nothing really, just this—it’s weird, you don’t—you don’t want to hear about it.” Evan’s looking back down at his book, embarrassed, and Alana thinks the tips of his ears are turning red.

“Well, I think I’d like to hear about it, and, considering I’m myself, I’m pretty sure I know my interests better than you do, Evan.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean it like—I’m sorry, um, it’s about, uh, trucks and tractors? Like kind of an encyclopedia about them?” His voice goes up at the end of his sentences, turning what should be statements into questions. He looks flustered, but there’s something hopeful in his gaze and Alana recognizes that hope. Hope that maybe you’ve found someone who finally gets you, someone who shares your interests, someone who could be your friend.

So, tonight, Alana’s going to read up as much as she can on trucks and tractors. For now, Alana merely asks general questions: does Evan like trucks or tractors better, does he have a favorite type of truck, is it trucks in general that he likes or specifically certain types of trucks like fire trucks? And Evan looks so excited—he’s even gesturing around for some answers instead of just picking at his nails or tugging at his sweatshirt sleeves like he usually does. He talks more than Alana has ever heard him talk in their past eight years of going to school together, and Alana finds herself getting interested in the topic. Evan’s enthusiasm about trucks—something she wouldn’t necessarily consider boring, but that she would never seek out information on for fun—is contagious and, by the end of lunch period, he’s basically convinced her that trucks are the most interesting mode of transportation, even more so than airplanes.

The bell rings, halting Evan’s incensed declaration that transporting cargo on trucks is much better than using airplanes and making him blink dazedly, like he hadn’t realized that time was still passing while he talked about trucks to Alana.

“Oh, gosh, I’m—I’m so sorry, I wasted your entire lunch period,” Evan looks actually concerned, as if he thinks Alana has much better things to do than listen to Evan Hansen go off on a rant about trucks.

“I wouldn’t call this a waste at all. It was very interesting,” Alana smiles at him and, summoning up all the courage she has, continues “we should do this again some time. We could sit together again tomorrow?” She hates how uncertain the question comes out, but she doesn’t think she can really handle a blatant rejection to hanging out from the only person in their grade who has more trouble making friends than her, and even though she thinks Evan likes her, he might not want to be friends with a girl, or something. She’s heard some of the other kids teasing boys for only having female friends, and Evan gets teased enough as is, so she’d understand if he didn’t accept her offer.

“Y-yeah, that would be—I’d be really—that sounds great! Or, uh, cool, that would—that would be cool.” Evan’s obviously trying to tone down his excitement, but it’s not working particularly well and it makes Alana want to laugh a little, but she figures it’s a bit too soon in their friendship for her to laugh at him randomly. He might get the wrong idea and think she’s making fun of him.

“Awesome! I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you later, Evan!”

“Yeah, uh, see you later, Alana.”

Alana dumps her trash from lunch in one of the cans by the door, exiting the cafeteria quickly and walking fast to her next class. She doesn’t want to make a fool of herself, but. But she has a friend.

Alana has a friend.

Alana has an actual friend!

A friend who she’s going to sit with at lunch tomorrow and, if she has her way, every day for the foreseeable future.

Alana can’t manage to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! if you want more of this, hit me up here or on tumblr at @jaredkleinmanisanerd!


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